⚠Trigger Warning; the following poem contains subject matter pertaining to suicidal ideation and self-harm ⚠
~
A note to any friends who read this post: while this poem is written in the present tense, please be aware that it is merely a memory I write of--not a present circumstance.

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They say

cut

d
o
w
n

the

road

if

you

wanna

off

yourself

not across the street

but
  

         I
                          
                      j walk,  slashing
                                                 ­    d
                                                        i
     ­                                                     a
          ­                                                  g
             ­                                                 o
              ­                                                  n        
     ­                                                              a
                                                                ­      l
                                                         ­             

onto thighs like lightning bolts

                     caught in the storm
                                   of this limbo
                                                           ­     cuz
                                                        ­              i don't wanna live
                     but
                            i don't wanna die


either.

What are you thinking?  

I don’t know

Hidden in the dark,

like a monster under a bed



Blank face, no expression.

Your walls are high, but so are mine

You’re trapped.

In a room without windows

A straight jacket around your heart

It’s trying to pump; you won’t let it



It’s dark down here

Pressure.

Drowns.

My.

Soul.  



I’m trying alright.

To piece together the way you work,

just like a potter and his clay

One day, you will cross this line

This fine line.  

We’ll be alright.

Get out of your shadow
make your own show
you're on your own light
because it what makes you bright

Prove your shadow
that you're worth following for
never look back
and keep your head up

Don't let the shadows of yesterday
spoil the sunshine of the following day
even the shadow leave
when you and your darkness meet

A noite sussurra seu lânguido canto entremeado pelos gritos agora abafados pela distância.

Arquejo enquanto caminho pelas fétidas ruas decoradas com cadáveres em decomposição, festa de vermes e aves carniceiras;

O tintilar dos vitrais anuncia a chegada da morte. Sua foice esbarra no delicado vidro das igrejas formando uma melodia fúnebre que gela meus ossos e consome minha mente.

Quantas vezes implorei de joelhos como um fraco para que me levasse junto, quantas vezes matei para saciar minha sede doentia; esperando, desejando que o castigo do Deus de que falam recaísse sobre minha existência amaldiçoada e retirasse de mim a não-vida eterna.

O gosto quente do sangue ainda pulsa em minha boca

Repulsa.

it illuminated all,
hid nothing
her first instinct:
close the blinds
and her eyes.
  
after a while
she opened the blinds.
her eyes followed suit,
squinting, adjusting,
taking in her surroundings.

the light shook hands
with the darkness
its touch healed,
helping her produce
light of her own.